


Irresistible

by Oboeist3



Series: Tangled Red Strings [1]
Category: Eureka
Genre: (Mostly) Canon-Compliant, A Pinch of Angst, Episode Tag: 2x11 Maneater, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-08
Updated: 2015-12-08
Packaged: 2018-05-05 14:41:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5378849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oboeist3/pseuds/Oboeist3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The age-old story, bent along the seam. All things bright and beautiful held together in reams."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Irresistible

**Author's Note:**

> Mostly written because screw heteronormative sex pollen episodes like seriously. (Also Jack/Nathan angst is fun to write hehehe) It's pretty much canon compliant from before this point except that Calli and Jack didn't do anything beyond the little 1-year celebration party in the last episode. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy!

"Bones." Stark says, quirking an eyebrow in a way Carter has become aware means he's highly skeptical of whatever just came out of his mouth.

"Yeah," he replies, doing his best to impart the sincerity of his claim. "and they're human. We don't know how old but Taggart's taking a look."

"So your theory is Dr. Stone is Hannibal Lector." The sarcasm drips off the words like raindrops off an umbrella, and Jack can't help but scoff.

"Yeah."

In the background, Carter hears Dr. Young come in asking about seminar attendance, but he can't tear his eyes off of Stark, the cool green eyes and the coy smile. God he can't wait to kiss it off his lips tonight, once Zoe is tucked away and SARAH kept distracted by her nightly system check.

'Assuming the town is still here.' His mind throws back at him, guilting him back to this task at hand.

"Carter, the man we're talking about is a Nobel laureate in biochemistry." Stark protests, as if that's a valid alibi.

"Yeah, and also maybe a homicidal maniac, so like you, but more violent."

"Give me time." he says, the slight shift in tone making the masochist in him take far too much notice. Once again, he shoves the feelings down in a way that will probably damage his psyche long-term, but temporarily keeps him from outing their weird hate-sex turned _something_ to the woman they're pining after.

"You gotta admit, it's a little weird." he says, and his silence is sweeter than one of Vince's parfaits.

He startles when Allison comes up behind him, he's almost forgotten she and Dr. Young were in here.

"Oh, sorry. Do you need something?"

"No, I'm good." she says, and the odd inflection is already sending off alarm bells in his head. Something's going on, something weird. "I just love the way your lips move when you talk."

"Excuse me?!" he splutters, echoed in unison by Stark.

"Dr. Blake, that is a wildly inappropriate comment!" Dr. Young shrieks with her characteristic distain, and Carter is quick to agree.

"Not to mention bizarre." Stark chips in, unnecessarily. Honestly, if he bluffs this much all the time they're going to be seen through easily.

"Go on, say something else." she says, all sultry and sexy but it feels completely and utterly wrong.

"Or dont." Dr. Young says, pushing Allison back, and Carter starts to feel relieved. At least someone has their senses about them. "Talk is cheap." she pulls his shoulders down and kisses him hard, like they've been involved for years and he belongs to her, and it's fucking weird!

He pushes her away with some effort and she laughs, declaring she's been wanting to do that all day, which doesn't help the weird feeling at all. Allison threatens her and suddenly there are bared teeth and curled fists and he's keeping them from attacking each other and Stark is just looking on with an unreadable expression.

Sometimes, he hates this town.

* * *

After establishing that Carter has something making him a sexual God and figuring out it's not Taggart's little wolf-love pheromoney thingy, not to mention the most awkward jerk-off of his life, he goes to Café Diem seeking more answers about the whereabouts of one Dr. Stone.

"Hey Vince, whatcha' got there?" he asks, trying to create some normalcy even though Fargo is guarding the door, barring all female citizens from entry.

"French ham with tarragon mustard." he says curtly, evidently displeased. "Now can I please have my female customers back?"

"Yeah, just trying to figure out a timeline here. Do you remember the last time Dr. Stone came in here to pick up his lunch?"

"Yeah, he comes in every day. Until today, that is. Too bad too. Cavacice burgers are his favorite. Unlike some other culinary philistines I won't mention." he huffs, ever displeased at Jack's lack of adventure in food.

Suddenly though, his expression changes, melts into something...fond.

"Of course, you do have lovely eyes. Like stolen pieces of sky."

"Vince, focus." he says, brushing away the compliment as a simple eccentricity. His conscious mind hasn't caught on to what his subconscious already knows, which is making him push slightly away from the counter, fingers curled into the wood.

"And those lips, oh! Simply divine. Perfect for so many things." Vincent says, significantly. Red flushes his cheeks and his shoulders tense, but he continues, more stubbornness than oblivity.

"Look, is there anything you know that might help us fi-"

"They always say LA boys are cute, but you take it to another level. Why I could just eat you up!" he exclaims, flashing a too wide smile and it finally clicks.

"Fargo! It works on men! The thingy works on m-mffh!"

The rest of his sentence is cut off by Vince's lips on his, and it takes far more effort to push him back than Dr. Young.

"I am really sick of getting kissed today!" he yells, wiping his face on his sleeve and storming out of the café, dragging Fargo with him.

* * *

Once sufficient space is put between him and Vincent to stop the....whatever-it-is, the mortified café owner points to Dr. Stone's whereabouts, locked in his bedroom the whole time. After toting the 'Mole' back to fix his digestive system-esqe cooling system, being attacked by flesh-hungry golf players, and managing to stop the town from being sex-pollinated, (or rather spored), Jack Carter arrives home exhausted and with one Nathan Stark leaning casually against the side of the bunker just at the bottom of the stairs. It's S.A.R.A.H.'s one blindspot, an increasingly important one.

"Oh right." he says, not bothering with a hello. They never do. "I forgot about this."

"Suddenly becoming the most sexy man in Eureka does tend to do that." Nathan taunts, but it's lighter then it is at work, the malice dropped.

"Yeah. Haven't been kissed that much in one day since college." he says, blushing a little. He refrains from the cheesy addition that none of them were any good. Not compared to these ones, hidden in the shadows.

"I don't think I'm really up for any more. Some other time though. I know, 'you'll call me', and all that. Still, it's nice to know you and Henry have some things in common."

"What is that?" he asks, like Jack knew he would. He's too curious to let him go on a mystery. It's one of those things he's come to lo- notice in these after hours.

"Asthma. You weren't affected by the spores when I came in with the bones. Ergo, you must have been wearing a mask too. I bet you guys have matching space inhalers and all!" he finishes triumphantly, proud of his little deduction.

That is, until Nathan's face goes white, his eyes suddenly devoted to the stained concrete floor. He sighs, forces them up with tremendous effort. Jack looks at him, concerned and a little scared. What's going on?

"Carter," No, no, no. At this point he's usually calling him Jack, or _mine._ Not Carter. Carter's for work, for professionalism. "I don't have asthma."

"Ooook, so you just filter your air why?"

"I don't!" he snaps, then stops. Another sigh, fingers pressed to the bridge of his nose like he was fighting a migraine. "I was affected too."

Those four words reel like film torn its projector, spinning uselessly around in Jack's brain. It spits out single word questions with no coherence.

"But! How? Why?"

Nathan fidgets with his tie, straightens his lapels. Doesn't look at him. The silence is cruel, violent. The answer doesn't fill the space.

"Because of Ally."

Of course. He should've known. That's what it all came down to. The reason this was anything at all was because of her. To keep them from killing each other over their affections, intentions. Allison Blake, beautiful, brilliant, worth more than the lot of them. Certainly more than a simple Sheriff's feelings gone horribly awry.

"I see." he says, foreign words for him. He turns to the door, ready to open it and slam it in that bastard's face. Just because he understood doesn't mean he's going to be reasonable about this.

"No, wait!" Stark says, grabbing him by the wrist and making him look at him, look at the torn emotions in his eyes that's so volatile it made hurricanes look like drizzle. "It's not like that."

"Then what is it like?" he asks, his own gaze boring. He won't allow himself to hope, but he'll listen.

"I just..." His hand leaves Jack's wrist in favor of running through his hair in frustration. He grits his teeth, curls his fingers, fighting his own pride for the words. " **If** Ally rejects me, and I'm going to make it a very unlikely if, believe me....I don't want to take you down with me. You're a good person, and I think you'd make her happy in a way I can't. You've got heart and soul and a devotion I spent on work instead of home, and....and..."

With each word, Nathan's calculated perfection splinters, becoming less of a facade and more like the reality hiding behind the curtain.

It falls completely with the kiss, soft and bittersweet, nothing like those urgent ones of previous nights, more teeth than lips, hot wired for speed and lack of clothes. This is a kiss for a good morning after, affectionate and final, given as they walked out the door, but their number was hidden in the pocket of discarded jeans.

"I think I'm in love with you, Jack."

If Jack's brain was broken before, these words obliterated it. So much so that there were no more words, no more thoughts, just the instincts of a suppressed subconscious.

"I love you too." He says, just before his brain comes back online.

The first thing he registers is Nathan's scowl, fingers grabbing his uniform and slamming him against the wall.

"Don't patronize me, Carter." he growls. "Hate me if you want, but don't pity me."

"I'm not!" he says. "This wasn't a spur of the moment thing, well, saying it aloud was. But I've been thinking about this for weeks! About when this stopped being..."

"Hate sex?"

"Yeah, basically. And when it started being-"

"Not."

They end up sitting against that unmonitored wall, Nathan's head on Jack's shoulder, hands laced together and contemplating what ought to be said. But there isn't exactly a guide to this. Finally, Nathan adds the question that matters most of all.

"What about Allison?"

Is Jack in love with her too? How will this change the rivalry? Who will she choose? And why? And what's going to happen to these words, this night? What's the right thing to do?

"I don't know."

**Author's Note:**

> What's that? Another music reference? But this one is in the summary quote! What could it be? You should comment and guess along with your thoughts about the fic ;)


End file.
